


Dammit Stiles!

by DementedChickens



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom!Stiles, Definitely Sucks, F/M, Important people die but they don't stay dead, It will be good I sweAR, It will only be like one chapter, M/M, Marriage and mating that Stiles doesn't remember, Mostly from Stiles' point of view, Sad Derek, Some angst-y shit, Still 3rd person., Top!Derek, Violence will not come until later, Will add more tags if this progresses, fluff towards the end, no switching, of like violence I mean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7383514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DementedChickens/pseuds/DementedChickens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles wakes up with an unfamiliar warmth pressing at his back, his first instinct is to panic- But when he shifts away from whoever is touching him, the sleepy 'Good morning,' is in a gruff voice that's all too irritating to him. Coupled with the fact that he's got a throbbing /bite/ mark on his neck, and a ring on the beside table that looks like a wedding band? Yea, someones in trouble and it's him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What happened to you?

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, so please be gentle with me! Also, this will be my first real fanfiction, so please be gentle with me. Any comments about how long chapters should be, or any tips are highly appreciated and taken into consideration!

Stiles sighed, shifting under the blankets that were silky smooth against his pale, mole dotted skin. A pleasant warmth was running all up and down his back, and God, that felt good. Throwing an arm out though, to hit at the alarm clock that hadn't made any noise yet, he came into contact with something.. Hard? And warm? And.. Alive? His first reaction was to panic, but he managed to keep that urge put down, instead taking a few deep breaths, then opening his eyes. A sleeping Derek Hale was pressed against him, shirtless, and perfe- No, do /not/ think about that, because why the hell were they in bed together? Pushing the arm that was thrown across his own chest away, he sat up, pulling at the short tufts of the brown hair he possessed. He cursed, quietly, before getting out of the bed as sneakily as possible. As soon as he was out of the bed, Derek moved to the spot he had vacated, a frown now marring the previously peaceful features. Looking down at himself, he realised that the only article of clothing he was wearing was a pair of boxer briefs that were definitely tight enough to emphasize his package. Cheeks now pink, he rubbed his forearms, confusion setting in. First, he looked in the mirror across the well-furnished bedroom. Really, it looked like a picture from a Gothic magazine. Only thing that was missing was a coffin instead of the large, black covered bed. Pillows, sheet, comforter.. The entire room was composed of earthy-tones and blacks. He himself would've added purple or something equally annoying, just to piss Derek off. Had he gotten /that/ drunk the night before? No, he was actually.. He was actually just doing some mediocre computer programming, in his room while his dad was at work.

"Good morning," Derek sleepily murmured, propped up on an elbow, turned on his side. The sheet was draped across his hips in a way that left very little to the imagination, and he was very reminiscent of a Greek statue, not a human- Well, werewolf in this case. "You're normally not up before me..You okay?" He asked, concern obvious in his voice. He looked the same as always to Stiles, melt-worthy green eyes, dark hair that looked sexier beyond belief, as sleep-mussed as it was. The man's skin tone shouldn't have been allowed to exist. The caramel colour was enough to drown in, and.. Okay, maybe Stiles had a bit of a crush, but he never thought that the Hale would just want to sleep with him, no matter how drunk. As far as Stiles knew, Derek was straight! And un-interested in humans! Maybe he had been wrong, though. Maybe.. But that still didn't explain the obviously nice room that they were in, because Derek's house had looked like shit, the last time he had gone. (Uninvited, of course. It was for a good cause!) "Stiles?" He questioned, now sitting up, and the way the sheet fell showed that, oh.. No underwear, either. Fantastic. Normally this shit only happened in his wildest fantasies. Having Derek mate with him, a human, and them live happily-ever-after? Sounded a lot like some of the erotic supernatural novels that he had read in his spare time. He had only read a few, which made it better, in his mind. 

"What happened between us- last night?" Stiles blurted out, eyes widening in slight innocence, and a whole lot of surprise. "Not that I didn't enjoy it- Actually, I don't remember if I enjoyed it, I really don't remember anything except being on my computer, actually, but don't we.. Kinda hate each other? The whole angsty-rage business and all that? Like if we were on a TV show, all the girls watching would say we're perfect for each other, if we could just get over our deep-seated anger that bubbles up when we speak?" Wincing, his foot was almost tangible, in his mouth. His weight went from right to left, to right, to left foot, and he couldn't keep still, his fingers trembling at his sides. "That your wedding ring?" He weakly ventured, nodding towards the table next to their- No, Derek's bed. "'Cause that's totally cool, won't ever mention whatever this is to your wife or husband or whatever you're married to. A throbbing sort of not-pain, but not pleasure shot through his neck, and he subconsciously reached up to feel what it was, his hand dropping out of shock when he realised just what that felt like.. He'd had enough bites from himself, and from other kids when he was younger to know the general shape and feel, but this one was swollen, and definitely not child-sized. "Did you bite /me/?" He asked, voice raising in the quiet of the bedroom. 

"Yea.. Not something I haven't done before." Raising an eyebrow, Derek began to get out of the bed-

"No, no, no! Don't move! You're naked, and.. My eyes are innocent and pure!" Stiles interjected, covering his face up for dramaticism.

"We're married, Stiles. That's your ring. You weren't feeling very well last night, so you went to bed a couple hours before I did. I bit you a few nights ago. You liked it quite a bit, if my sense of smell is correct. Which it is. No need to doubt that." The smirk that the man had was downright evil, Stiles decided. No way would he forget they were married. "How long? Have we been married? Did we go to Vegas or somethin'?"  
"A year. We've been married a year; Or will be next week. What the hell is going on with you? You haven't been in contact with witches or anything- Hell, you haven't even been out of my damn sight for a week! Isaac managed to infect everyone with something that even we can't burn off very fast, so the rest of the pack has been in quarantine. Even Scott, which you were very vocal about, but if it's getting us sick, it'd really get you or another human sick."  
"No way. No way could we have been married a year! That's fucking ridiculous, and I don't know what kind of trick this is, but I want it to stop! Now, Derek. You're even more of a cruel bastard than I thought you were, if this is your idea of humour. Which, considering your track record, it probably is." 

Taking a few, stumbling steps backwards, Stiles hit the closed door of the bedroom, fumbling for the knob. Wrapping his hand around it, he stepped forward, opened the door, and stepped out of the now cloying, claustrophobic room- And, into a long hallway..

Filled with happy, framed photos of their wedding, them in general, and their friends. 

Stiles slid down the wall into a sitting position, and covered his face, panic truly setting in at this point. "No, no, no! This isn't-" A flash of colour flitted across his vision, transporting him into what felt like a scene from a movie.. It certainly felt like it at least, since he was able to see himself grinning at Derek at a seemingly fancy restaurant- With tablecloths and everything. There was a candelabra in the center of the table, and the fancy silverware with designs engraved and everything. His breath caught, when he realised why he was being shown with; Because from the angle he was at, he could very clearly see that Derek was reaching into his pocket for something box-shaped. Stiles, knowing himself, had probably not even noticed the poorly hidden thing. Swallowing heavily, he took a few steps forward, noting that he looked transparent to himself. Of course, this was just a.. Memory? He saw and heard everything a if he was a voyeur though, which made him more than a little wary to try to say anything or touch anyone. He heard the piercing shriek with full clarity, cringing as he realised that noise had come from him. "Yes!" The memory-Stiles yelled, drawing the attention of some of the staff, and a few of the customers who hadn't realised what was going on. The not-him leaned down to give the now kneeling Hale a tender kiss, and from the distance he was at, he could tell that his cheeks looked suspiciously wet. He hadn't thought that he'd cry, but he had also figured he'd be the one proposing, so he didn't think his (past)self was all that girly or wimpish. Crying was actually pretty manly, in his mind. The feeling of being shaken took him away from the memory he had been watching, and he was almost nose-to-nose with a werewolf that looked more than a little freaked out. "Stiles? Stiles! Jesus, what's up with you? You might've caught what Isaac spread, even though you were only around him for a few minutes. Dammit, Stiles!" With little effort, Derek had lifted him into the bridal position, disregarding his own nudity. He was quick, taking them to their living room with ease. He sat Stiles down, and after a moments hesitation, grabbed a blanket and threw it over Stiles. "Gonna go get some clothes on- Don't move or try to do anything stupid while I'm getting dressed," He warned, heading back to their bedroom. Derek dressed himself in lounge wear; Just a simple shirt and flannel pants, since it was the first thing he saw that fit him, and wasn't Stiles. He wasted no time in coming back to his husband, eyebrows furrowed with worry. "Do you feel okay?" "What? I feel fine. I feel great, actually. Maybe a little bit dizzy.." Stiles was studying the room, taking note of the bookshelf filled with everything from the classics to Victorian Era fiction. He was shocked at the sheer amount of all the damn pictures of themselves they had, because he really wasn't completely vain- Not really, in the scale of things, even if he liked looking at himself.

The furniture had the same colour scheme as the bedroom had; Dark woods, and colours. Though the room was filled with warmth. What really caught his attention though, was the fireplace. The architecture was beautiful, but the thing that drew him to look was the twin stockings hanging above an unlit fire- One had the name Derek inscribed with gold, cursive letters; The other had Stiles in cartoonish, block letters in blue. The last thing he remembered had been a week and a half before Christmas. "I.. I don't feel so well anymore. The last thing I remember isn't too long before this, and.. Shit, I need to talk to Scott or Melissa or- Or my dad! Does he know about this?"

"He went down the aisle with you, Stiles." Feeling of Stiles' forehead with a warm hand, he was taken back at how hot the brunette's skin was- Even running at a higher than normal temperature, he could tell that his beloved had a fever. Taking a cautious sniff, the frown that had overtaken him deepened, and he hesitantly sat on the couch, moving Stiles' legs into his lap without much thought. "You smell like Isaac and Scott did- Even Erica smelled like this. Something isn't right, but I don't know what the hell's going on, and that pisses me off more than anything!" Growling in frustration, he leaned against the couch, a brief flash of blue shadowing the green. Stiles pulled his legs away, curling into the fetal position instead, no matter how vulnerable it made him look. "I understand much less than you, since this is some supernatural shit, and I'm just a human. An intelligent human, sure, but human all the same." 

"Maybe not for long," Was all Derek could choke out, guilt clouding his eyes. "But we'll see."


	2. I'm the /human/ sidekick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos. :) Going to try to update daily, or at the very least, every other day. Also, I will warn for anything that I feel someone would want to skip over.

"No," Stiles started, sitting up with a paler than normal face. "I'm destined to be the human. I am literally the side-kick in the relationship between my best friend and I!" His forehead was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and he pulled the blanket closer, suddenly wishing that he hadn't of moved away from Derek. "I don't know why the hell I'm here, and not at home, waiting for my dad to get home from work! I haven't even seen you for weeks! You've been busy off in that other damn territory, doing God knows what with the other Pack leaders." 

Recognition shone on Derek's face, loud and clear. "You mean in Hawthorne? Four towns over? I remember having to go and.. Fix some misunderstandings between two other leaders. We started, uh.. Dating a little bit after that. I brought you takeout when you got the stomach flu, and you threw up on my shoes." Rubbing the back of his neck, he tilted his head and stared quizzically, still unsure about Stiles' memory. "Do you really not remember our- Our entire relationship?" Shifting closer, he re-positioned Stiles so that his inhuman warmth wouldn't go to waste, even if it wasn't good for someone with a fever to overheat even more than they were. "Because that wouldn't just be some simple problem. That would be complicated work, and I'm really not all that sure how to fix that."

Stiles gripped his thigh, to ground himself. His fingernails were sharp, and dug into his skin, not as blunt as they were normally shaped. "Not a bit." He rasped, his mouth suddenly dry. Stress coursed throughout him, and he wasn't sure where to begin. Wetting his lips, he decided that diving headfirst would be the best option. "So, that's how we.. Started being together? Or, that was the starting event. Maybe I decided I liked you because you didn't murder me for what you said I did-" His cheeks were rosy, now, and he wasn't looking at the other man anymore. The ceiling was holding his interest so much more than those mossy-green eyes were.. No, it really wasn't, but Derek could read anyone like a book if he could actually keep from scowling at them, for long enough. He was hoping that Derek would completely forgo his horribly reliable sense of smell to try to get at Stiles' emotions, which were a whirlwind of anger, some sadness, but mainly.. Mainly just fear. "Look, we aren't together. I mean we are, but.. We aren't. You understand me, right? If my- Our friends are sick like you say they are, we don't need to pretend about this to anyone. Sure, you're attractive, but we just wouldn't work together. At least not in the frame of mind I'm in, right now." 

Any trace of kindness left Derek, but anger didn't fill it's place. Instead, disappointment, and self-loathing did. "It took awhile for us, the first time around. The first month we were actually dating should've been renamed 'Petty arguments'. We didn't agree on hardly anything, but yet.. We still stayed together. I haven't done anything to pressure you into being /not/ human, but I really plan on it. When this gets completely sorted out, and you're back to being you, I will try to give you the bite." Finality was threaded throughout his words, his lips pursed, the green of his eyes darkened to the point where Stiles was more than a little bit nervous. This was a huge subject to just spring upon someone, but in Derek's mind, this wasn't all that sudden. He and future-Stiles had casually spoken about it before, though they hadn't ever gotten far on the topic. Normally something interrupted them, whether it be a packmate, Stiles' dad, or an entirely different entity. Stiles panicked; His throat closed off, restricting his breathing to not much more than a wheeze. He was scared, and if Derek couldn't see that with the flail of his arms as he fought to get the blanket off, too hot, too itchy, all of a sudden, he would be able to feel it quite easily. Landing in a heap of now uncovered arms and legs the flush that had taken host across his cheeks, spread down his neck and chest, causing his skin to become a blotchy, irritated red. Pulling himself up using one of the couch cushions, he backed away on visibly shaking legs. "N-" He choked, coughed, and shook his head, bumping into a table with a rather nice, if a little bit plain, vase on it. "No, don't!" He managed, grabbing the vase, fake flower and all. Stiles brandished it like a weapon, even if it would do little to no damage to a werewolf. In hindsight, he wasn't thinking about that; Mostly just keeping Derek away, or knocking some sense into him. When the werewolf in question took a step forward, arms at his side, and those pretty eyes narrowed, Stiles threw the glass object with surprising precision, considering his arm strength was little to none. Nailing Derek directly in the hard planes of his chest, the vase shattered, glass littering the floor and his feet. Instead of a simple flash of blue-They glowed, this time, and the growl that left him was completely instinctual, and feral, which was mildly terrifying, even though Stiles /had/ heard it before. Maybe it was the close proximity, or maybe it was the fact that he felt weak enough to collapse, but this was even more worrisome than it might've been a week, or a month before.. Before he had been transported into this mystery alternate universe. At least he knew this was the same Derek though, based on the crankiness, Godlike sexuality, and the canines that were- Fuck, the canines that were a little bit too big for the man's mouth, at the moment. "Down, b-boy!" Stiles yelled, since he lacked reason, and.. Well, he lacked reason. That was about all the explanation he needed to give. "Do we have dog biscuits or something around here? Maybe a leash or shock collar I could use on you?" He babbled, eyes darting around the room to find something- Anything! That could protect him from the angry werewolf that was sparing nothing in the I-will-eat-you department. The previously short fingernails were lengthening; Sharpened and pointed. Canines that, while, were a little bit larger than a human's, weren't exactly in the realm of completely abnormal; Now, though, they looked as if they'd cut right through delicate Stiles flesh, much to the brunette's chagrin. "Forget I-I said anything about you not being my husband, I mean, what /was/ I thinking? Obviously wasn't, considering I threw that vase at you! I was just.. Kidding?" Who was he kidding, Stiles thought, scampering over to another side of the room, to put some distance between he and Derek. "Maybe you just want to play fetch," Brightening at his brilliant idea, he grabbed what seemed like a TV remote, and threw it as far as he could- Which was down a hallway. Dogs were easily distracted, and were pretty playful in general, so a wolfed out Derek had to be- Right? But as far as Stiles /could/ remember, every time Derek had actually taken on the traits of the wolf.. Someone ended up injured or worse- Dead. Now, his supposed lover looked absolutely, and totally livid, so in other words.. Terrifying, murderous, every adjective such as that in the book. His shoulder's were hunched, and his teeth were bared; Really, he looked the picture of not in control, so when he suddenly straightened up, though his eyes, nails, and teeth remained the same, Stiles' confusion was obvious. And then his eyes were wider than a doe's, because holyshitohmygod, Derek was barreling towards him, full speed ahead. He had no chance to run, or do anything, really, so he stood stock-still and tried his best to not die. Being knocked over took the wind out of him- (Wasn't much of that in Stiles to begin with), and freaked the daylights out of him, but he had had many more terrible things happen to him, in his relatively short life, so this didn't compare to any of that stuff. "What the fuck?" He asked, pushing at Derek with all his might, the man not budging one bit. Wow, he really was.. Strong? Or maybe Stiles was just pathetically weak. Either way, he knew he was absolutely and totally fucked. Shutting his eyes, he waited for.. Well, for whatever would come, he guessed. When he felt some light snuffling at his neck, he stiffened, unsure what to do. Did he try to push Derek off again, with his low amount of Stiles-strength, or did he stay still and let it happen? Sneak attack him while he was confused or wasn't paying attention? Nah, stealth wasn't ever his thing. Not even in the video games he enjoyed playing. He normally went in all guns blazing. So, he laid still, waiting for an opportunity to get away presented itself. Playing it by ear seemed to be the way to go, in this case. The hot, wet drag of what felt like a tongue almost withdrew a noise that would be very, /very/ embarrassing on his part, so he clenched his teeth until- God dammit, until the bite got the brunt of the rough texture, and why did he deserve this punishment? He did have a teeny little crush on Derek, but who wouldn't? His ass was unfairly perfect, and that scowl? That could melt even the coldest of loins. Stiles didn't blame himself from gasping, but at this point, he used every fibre of his being to push, kick, or just get Derek off of him before he really embarrassed himself. "Mine," Was the response, in the form of a growl that was not as scary as it previously had been.. More possessive than aggressive. One more swipe, and Derek lifted his head, the blue no longer as neon. Some green and brown and shit, gold? Yea, gold. Those colours were even peeking through, now. But by the body language that Stiles had learned, he was still highly pissed off, which wouldn't be good at all for him. "No, no. Not yours. I'm mine," Stiles' voice was gentle, and he awkwardly pat Derek's shoulder -How muscular could this man be without it being illegal?- His thoughts were distracting him though, and he steeled himself, knowing that Derek would probably be able to smell right through him- Ha, get it, since Derek's a werewolf? Stiles shook his head, cursing the fact that his thoughts were so easily pushed in different directions, from where he wanted them to go. "I'm my own person." And then that gorgeous head was lowering again, to his jaw, those too-long teeth scraping against the delicate skin and bone. Stiles felt his skin tearing under the ministrations of Derek, but he couldn't exactly complain. The pleasure was far out-weighing the pain, but he knew this was wrong. He wasn't the right Stiles for this. His future-self was what this Derek was catering to, and it was all so wrong, but he couldn't get a breath to hardly make a sound, much less protest. Not that the werewolf would've backed off. He very obviously got what he wanted, and in this case.. It was him. A pathetic human of all things, which was endlessly confusing to Stiles. Never had he felt anything from Derek besides contempt, rage, anger, exasperation.. So nothing good. Except for the one time he had made Derek laugh, but that was more of a cruel laugh than anything. Note to self; He likes terrible jokes about dead things. Maybe that would get him distracted long enough for Stiles to slip away? Well, it was better than doing nothing. So, he opened his mouth- Only to have whatever he would've managed silenced by a kiss.


End file.
